When Sorrows Come
by Galieo Figaro
Summary: The daughter of a nobleman seeks vengeance after her mother is murdered and her father marries the murderess. (Peter and the Starcatcher parody of Hamlet). No flames or deconstructive criticism.
1. The Wind Begins to Moan

_The country outside Kensington, England. Year: 1885_

Darkness, in the hours of the early morning. On the road surrounding a hill, on top of which is Aster estate, a servant named Mrs. Bumbrake walks down the road on her evening watch. She shivers in the February cold and wraps her cloak tighter around her. There's nothing to light her way except the lantern she carries and the light of the moon.

In the dark behind her, another servant, named Alf, approaches. Hearing his footsteps, Mrs. Bumbrake whirls around as she reaches for the knife on her belt. She lifts the lantern high.

"Who's there?" she calls out.

"I should be asking you the same thing!" a gruff voice calls back, threateningly. "Whoever you are, you better be working for the Aster house. Identify yourself!"

"God save the Queen!" Mrs. Bumbrake replies, recognizing the voice.

A pause, and then the voice calls "Beatrice?"

"Yes," Mrs. Bumbrake smiles, "it's me, love."

At that, Alf steps into the light the lantern gives off, and the two lovers embrace.

As they pull apart, Mrs. Bumbrake comments "You couldn't have come at a better time."

Alf nods. "Aye, and it's past midnight now, Bea. Come on, let's go to bed."

Mrs. Bumbrake sighs in relief. "Thanks for the idea. I can't remember a night like this being so cold and my nerves can't take much more of the watch."

Alf smiles kindly. "So, nothing out of the ordinary again?"

"Not even something coming from the woods." Mrs. Bumbrake shakes her head, pointing to the forest lining the other side of the road.

Alf wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Let's go back. Smee and that boy Peter should be on their way here, so if we meet them, we'll tell them to get their rears in gear."

Both of them chuckle, when they hear the sound of more footsteps approaching.

"I think I hear them." Mrs. Bumbrake whispers, reaching for her knife again, just in case it's not who she thinks.

"As do I." Alf says, then calls out, "Halt! Who goes there?"

Into the light of the lantern step two men. One is Smee, another servant to the Aster house. The other, a younger man, is Peter, a close friend of Molly Aster, daughter of the Aster nobles.

"An old friend." he says.

"And a servant to the house." Smee announces.

Mrs. Bumbrake smiles at the sight of more friendly faces and bows her head slightly. "Good evening to you both, gentlemen." she says kindly.

And you too, Mrs. B." Smee smiles back. "How was your watch tonight?"

"Oh, same old, same old." Mrs. Bumbrake shrugs.

"Say," Alf says, looking at the young man, "is this Peter here too?"

"Is there any other?" Peter says, laughing a little.

At this, with formalities aside, everyone relaxes a bit. Now the servants begin to think about the reason they asked Peter to come down here.

Smee is the first to mention it. "So, has anyone seen the-ah, uh- 'thing' again tonight?"

Alf shakes his head. "I've only been down here about as long as you have. I can't say I've seen anything."

"For all the time I've been out, I haven't seen anything either." Mrs. Bumbrake agrees.

Smee sighs. "Well, according to Peter, the whole thing is just our imagination, and he refuses to take part in such a fancy. However, since the three of us can say we've seen this 'fancy', I figured it might be good for him if he stays with us out here on our watch. Just in case the apparition appears again, he will know we're not fooling around and maybe – just maybe – he might be able to speak to it, to learn what it's doing out here."

Peter just shakes his head and sighs. "I can't believe I'm even doing this." he mutters. "Whatever it is you people think you see does not exist, and therefore, cannot appear tonight."

Alf chuckles and motions to the grass on the hill. "Sit down, son. Between the three of us, we have plenty to tell you of what we've been seeing for the past two nights."

Peter shrugs as he and the servants take seats on the grass. "All right." He says. "I'll listen to whatever stories you have to tell me. Who will start?"

"I will." Mrs. Bumbrake says, sitting up straighter. She thinks for a moment, then begins. "Let's see, it was last night. I remember that one star that sits in the western part of the sky was burning particularly bright, and it was Smee and myself out here on the watch. I'd say it was about an hour after midnight when-"

Suddenly, all goes quiet as the lantern blows out, even though there's no wind. They sit in the dark for a moment, then a strange white glow emanates from the woods behind the group. They all get to their feet and turn to see a figure coming towards them. The figure is that of a woman, clothed in a pure white dress, her hair floating all around her.

Mrs. Bumbrake makes a slight noise of horror, but Alf quickly shushes her. Smee grabs Peter's arm and frantically points at the approaching spirit. "Look!" He whispers, trying to keep his voice from trembling. "I told you it would come again!"

"And she looks just like the dead Lady Louise Aster!" Mrs. Bumbrake gasps.

Alf turns to Peter. "You've been to school, you're smarter than the rest of us, I hope." He says. "Why don't you try speaking to it?"

"Don't you agree it looks like Mrs. Aster?" Mrs. Bumbrake asks, also turning to him.

For a moment, Peter is so terrified by what he sees, he can't even speak. Finally, he finds his voice. "Yeah," he whispers, "it does… very much. I can't remember the last time I've felt this scared."

The ghost begins to raise her hand up, looking like she wants to say something, then she lowers her hand again and looks at the four expectantly.

"I think she wants us to say something." Mrs. Bumbrake whispers.

Smee gives Peter a nudge in the back towards the spirit. "Go on, talk to it."

Peter nervously licks his lips and asks "Who are you, and what are you doing roaming the grounds of this property, looking like the deceased mistress of the house up on the hill? Whoever you are, answer me!"

At this, the ghost slowly turns and begins to move back in the direction of the trees.

"Now look!" Smee cries out, pointing at the disappearing ghost. "You've offended her, you have!"

"She's going away!" Mrs. Bumbrake says. "Let's try and get her back here."

Peter starts to run after the ghost. "Hey, wait!" he calls. "Where are you going? Why won't you talk to us?"

He gets no response, as the ghost moves into the dark forest and disappears from sight. Peter almost goes after, but Smee stops him at the side of the road, Mrs. Bumbrake and Alf behind him.

Alf shakes his head. "She's gone now." he sighs. "We won't get an answer from her tonight."

Mrs. Bumbrake takes a look at Peter and notices a change in his composure. "What's the matter, Peter?" she asks. "You're trembling and you look pale. Is it because you now know the thing we've been telling you about is real? What are your thoughts on it?"

"I swear," Peter gasps, "if I hadn't seen all this tonight with my own eyes, I never would have believed it."

"Did she look like Lady Aster?" Smee asks.

Peter nods. "She looked just as much like Lady Aster as you look like Smee. She had the look right down to the exact same dress the Lady wore when the Aster family traveled to Stonehenge for the meteor shower and festival. It's so strange, I almost want to believe it's just some spirit that took her shape."

"Not as strange as the fact that this has already happened twice." Mrs. Bumbrake says.

"At the exact same time and place too." Alf adds. "But she's never looked at us before; she's just skimmed by, like she's taking a walk in the park with no cares in the world."

Peter stops to think about all this for a moment. Then he thinks of something. "I have an idea," he says, "but I don't know how this exactly ties into it. My thinking is, the spirit is some kind of omen bringing a warning of ill fate, perhaps for the rest of the Asters or even for England itself."

"All right," Smee says as the four take seats on the ground, "let's try to sort this out. The House has always had servants patrolling at night, but now they seem to have taken it up a notch. They're demanding every detail of our shifts, not to mention that we have a weapon nearby."

"Another thing." Mrs. Bumbrake says. "In all the years I've been working here, Sundays have always been the most relaxed day of the week. These days, nobody can seem to calm down or rest without having to look over their shoulders first, like they expect something to jump them from behind. Is there any reason everyone has become so paranoid lately? Any explanation at all?"

"I know." Peter says. When everyone looks at him, he shrugs. "Well, I know something. Louise Aster, whose ghost, hopefully, was the thing we just saw, was the younger sister of Queen Victoria."

"God save her." everyone murmurs, bowing their heads.

Then Peter continues. "That's the reason why the Aster family is so revered among the royal court. Louise Aster loved animals and that is what killed her as she took a Sunday walk in the park. A St. Bernard approached her and when she reached to pet it, it bit her and gave her the rabies it had been suffering from. She fell sick and died soon after, and the dog was later found and killed. But now, the Queen is trying to find reason to believe that the death was no accident. She wants to investigate this further and the word is she's assembling a troop to carry the job out. Not only does this troop contain royal soldiers, but also street thugs who will do anything for some extra money. Everyone here is expecting an attack."

For a moment, there's silence as everyone thinks this over. Alf begins to nod slowly. "That actually sounds about right. It explains why the Lady's ghost keeps strolling through here, since she's the one they're investigating."

"Regardless of why she's here," Peter says, "the ghost is definitely something to worry about. It's almost like what happened in Rome before the death of Julius Caesar. The dead walked out onto the streets, talking nonsense, leaving their empty graves behind. Shooting stars were in the sky and the dew on the grass was mixed with blood. Strange things could be seen on the sun and there was eclipse after eclipse of the moon."

"That's probably what's going on now." Smee says. "Like you just said, strange things are happening, as if Heaven and Earth are both coming up with as many ways as possible to warn us of something.

Smee could have said more, when he is interrupted by the return of an eerily familiar white light. Slowly getting to their feet, the group watches as the ghost reappears from the dark of the woods.

"I can't believe it." Mrs. Bumbrake whispers. "She's come back."

Peter gets to his feet. "This time, I'm really going to talk to it." He declares as the ghost moves past them. "Spirit, please stay!"

Upon hearing this, the ghost stops, but doesn't turn around. Peter keeps going. "If you can speak to us or make any kind of noise at all, please do so. Tell us, is there anything good we can do for you so you can be at peace? Is there anything you know about your family or England in the future that we can stop? Or, if you have some great treasure hidden and it must be found, please say something about it!"

Instead of responding, the ghost begins to glide away into the forest again. Peter, desperate, turns to the others. "Somebody stop it!"

"What should I do?" Smee asks, pulling his pistol out of his belt. "Shoot her?"

"If we have no other way of making her stay here, then yes!" Peter snaps before turning back to the woods and losing sight of the ghost.

"Look!" Mrs. Bumbrake cries, pointing to the far right side of the line of tree. "She's over there!"

"No," Alf insists, pointing in the other direction, "I see her there!"

"Where?" Smee asks, looking all over. "I don't see her anywhere."

It's true: the ghost is gone as the sky slowly begins to lighten with the approaching dawn. Far off in the distance, the sound of ringing Church bells is heard.

Peter sighs in defeat. "We weren't thinking right, trying to use violence to make her stay. Not that it would have done anything, anyway, but it was still a bad idea.

"I think she was going to say something," Mrs. Bumbrake says. ", but she had to go back into hiding when the bells began to ring."

Alf sighs. "The way she fled from us into there," he points to the woods, "you would have thought we had found about some crime she tried to get away with."

Smee thinks for a moment, then says "I've heard things about the bells. They're like roosters, only bigger and louder, waking everything up and forcing the ghosts back to where they came from for the day. What we saw now was just that."

Mrs. Bumbrake nods. "They always disappear at the first sight of morning. I've even heard people say that during Christmas Eve and Day, the bells ring incessantly, so nothing comes to hurt anyone. There's no evil spirits or magic haunting about at night, on the most Holy Night.

Peter nods. "I believe that."

The sun begins to appear over the top of the hill and the sky grows full of colors. Everyone watches the scene for a few moments, then turn away and continue to walk down the road.

"Morning has never been a more welcome sight." Peter sighs. "The sky is full of red, and the world is a livelier place now."

Then he stops walking, getting an idea. "I know."

The three servants gather around. "Smee," Peter says to the man, "even though this is your watch, don't start just yet. We should go inside the house and tell Molly about everything that's happened. If this ghost really is her mother, since she won't speak to us, will she pass up the chance to say a final farewell to her only daughter?"

Smee shakes his head. "Let's do it now." he says eagerly.

Mrs. Bumbrake takes a few steps ahead of the group and motions them to follow her. "Come on!" she says. "If I'm right, I know exactly where she will be."

The four of them take off down the road to the House.


	2. Till Death Do We Part

**Author's Notes**

**1) The description of the house is based on the scenery in RSC's 2009 production of Hamlet. **

**2) Lydia is my Peter and the Starcatcher OC. She has a long and complicated, but very fascinating story, which I am still in the process of working out and am planning to write in the future. For now though, she's just a character in this.**

**Read, review, and enjoy… 3**

_The main hall in the Aster estate house, a large room walled and floored in black marble, lined with gold. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling; side tables, mirrors, curtains and candelabras adorn the walls. _

A celebration is going on. Many nobles and staff members are in attendance, talking, laughing, and toasting each other with glasses of champagne. At the center of the celebration is Leonard Aster, lord of the estate and husband of the late Louise, and his new wife, Lydia Ombra Aster, a younger woman with raven-colored hair and piercing green eyes. They are both dressed in their very best.

Amidst the festivities, Leonard taps his champagne glass and all attention turns to him.

He clears his throat. "Although the memory of my dear Louise's death is still fresh in our minds," he says, "and the household continues to mourn her, we must not let this grief keep our lives from moving forward. Consequently, I have found a light in these dark times through my marriage to beautiful Lydia, an act done with a heart both heavy and light. But I know that if I hadn't listened to the advice of both friends and family, I would not be feeling as happy as I do now. To you all, I am truly grateful."

Everyone smiles and applauds as husband and wife clink their glasses and exchange a kiss.

"Now," Leonard says after the applause dies down, "as you all know, Queen Victoria-" – "God save Her." everyone says. – "my beloved's dear sister, is refusing to believe that Louise's death was merely a happening of circumstance. She believes the house is in disarray with no true mistress to run it and is planning to launch an investigation. We will sort that matter out."

Leonard pulls a letter out of his coat pocket and motions to one of the servants, named Cadigan, who steps forward.

"This letter," he explains, "is written to Prince Albert, who knows little of his wife's plan. I've asked him to speak to her and possibly get her to see reason. Mr. Cadigan, I trust you with delivering this to the palace. Take care, and don't speak to anyone unless you must." Leonard hands him the letter.

Cadigan places the letter in his own pocket and bows. "My lord, my duty is only to you. I will not let you down."

Leonard smiles. "I have great faith you won't. Good luck." He gives the man a clap on the shoulder, then Cadigan leaves.

With the servant gone, Leonard turns his attention to James Hook, one of the captains for the Aster family's ships. Hook, a man with an enormous black moustache and a hook where his right hand should be, stands among the front of the crowd. He stands to attention when the Asters approach.

"Captain," Leonard greets him, "we understand you have something to say, and you've been patiently waiting. What do you need to tell?"

Hook seems ready to speak, but hesitates.

Lydia smiles kindly. "Hook," she says, "you know you can tell us or ask for anything. You're one of our best captains, you and Captain Scott. Now, what would you like?"

Hook, more relaxed, says "My lord, I'm asking for your permission to sail to France. I was planning to travel there for a time, but upon the Lady's death and your wedding, I felt my duty was to the House, and so I stayed. But now I feel I have done my duty, and I admit I've been thinking more about my travel lately."

Leonard nods. "What has Captain Scott got to say for this?"

At this, Robert Scott, other captain in employment to the Asters and an old family friend, steps up next to Hook. "He has my approval, sir, after endlessly asking about going for days. Hook is a great friend, but I will be glad to get a break from him."

Everyone laughs as the captains shake hands, then Hook and Leonard exchange a hand shake. "Have a good time." Leonard smiles. "Take as long as you like on your travels, and overall, just enjoy yourself."

Then Leonard and Lydia turn to Molly, Leonard and Louise's daughter. Molly, a young woman in her early twenties, stands by herself with her eyes to the ground, dressed all in black, an untouched glass of champagne in her hands.

Lydia smiles and holds her arms out. "My precious daughter-"

Molly stiffens at the greeting. "I beg to differ." she mutters.

Lydia's smile falters a little and she lowers her arms. "My dear," she says gently, "you've been so gloomy these last couple of months, like a gray cloud is hanging over you. Why are you still like this?"

"What makes you think that?" Molly asks. "I've been spending all my time in the sun. I may even _need_ a cloud to keep from burning myself up."

Leonard takes one of her hands and looks upon his daughter with kindness. "I miss her too," he says, "but you can't let this mourning go on any longer. Stop wearing those dark clothes and smile, be friendly with us. Lift your eyes up instead of looking at the ground and hoping your mother will come out of it. You know as well as I that all things that live must die at some point."

Molly lifts her head and nods. "Yes," she says, "I do know that."

"Well, if you know it," Leonard asks, "then why do you seem to take these things so literally?"

Molly feels insulted by this question. "I don't seem to take it, father." she responds, coldly. "I _do_ take it. It's just hard to actually see how deep my grief runs, even with the black clothes, and all the sighing and weeping. I might be faking it, since that's how actors seem to do it, but this facade is only a small mirror of how I truly feel inside."

"Molly," Lydia says, her voice full of motherly affection, "your mother would be proud of how you've memorialized her through your grieving, but remember: your mother lost her own mother, who lost hers, and so on. A child is always right to mourn their parent's death, just not right to take it so far. It's inhuman, unhealthy, and makes you appear weaker than you really are. We all know that everything has to die, but should we put so much thought into it? The answer is no, because it's just as well as committing a crime against Heaven, the dead, and nature itself. There's no reason to act like a mother can live forever, so please, move on with your life. I may not be your real mother, but I think of you as my daughter and I love you as any mother could love their child. All I ask is if you could think of me as _a _mother. Remember, you stand next in line to inherit your father's title in court, as well as this estate. "

Leonard clears his throat. "Also, Molly" he says, "I just want to tell you that while I do respect your intent of going back to the university, I would appreciate it if you could stay here with us. We all have certainly missed you and would like the chance to spend time together."

Lydia nods. "Daughter, I've been praying that you would stay home. Please don't let them go unanswered."

Molly sighs, but stands up straighter. "I will stay, father." She says. "If that's what you really want."

Lydia smiles wide, nearly unable to contain her joy. "You couldn't have said it any better." She says happily. "You truly do love us to have said it."

Leonard, also pleased with his daughter's decision, smiles and holds his hand out. "Come, my dear." He says, motioning out of the room.

Lydia nods and the two start to leave, but then Lydia stops and turns back to Molly. "I have an idea." She announces. "Let's throw a little celebration tonight, to commemorate Molly agreeing to stay with us. We can drink a toast and make it so it can be heard even in the heavens!"

Everyone cheers and follow the nobles out of the room. However, Molly stays behind and places her glass on the table behind her. She slowly starts to walk towards the door out when she catches sight of herself in one of the mirrors on the far wall and, a rush of emotion flooding her, sinks to her knees. She feels ready to cry, but hardly any tears come to her eyes.

"Oh, what am I thinking, staying here any longer with _them_?" she moans. "I would give anything, just to erase myself from existence and make this pointless flesh into nothing at all! I'd even kill myself if I could, yet I know I can't because my soul is as good as damned! My God, life has become so long and tired for me, almost like a garden full of weeds that no one wants to take care of. But look what's happened now!"

Molly gets up and turns to look at herself in another mirror. "Hardly two months have gone by, if not less." she says. "My mother, the greatest woman England has known – other than the Queen –, doesn't even deserve to be compared to that … replacement my father thinks he has found."

She sighs. "Back then, they loved each other so dearly, and she was always at his side. But, how is it possible now that my father has fallen in love and married again, even before he had a chance to change out of his own mourning clothes and dry his tears? An animal, which has no sense of reason of all, would have mourned my mother longer!"

Molly begins to breathe heavy, trying to keep her growing fury under control. "He married her, the daughter of our enemy, who believes she can win us over by pretending to love us. She'll never be my mother, but then again, I will never be Athena or Aphrodite. I honestly don't think I've ever seen two people married and in the same bed together as fast as they did!"

Hearing her voice echo, Molly lets out a breath and shakes her head. "It's already too much for me to have to always keep my mouth shut around here." She grumbles, looking down to the floor again.

Footsteps coming in cause Molly to raise her head and see Peter, Smee, Alf and Mrs. Bumbrake entering. At seeing Peter, she grins wide and runs to him, embracing her in a hug. He grins and returns the hug, then they pull apart.

"Hello, Molly!" Peter grins. "It's so good to see you again!"

"Same here, Peter." Molly says. "Your name is still Peter, right?"

Everyone laughs. "Of course," Peter says, "and I'm still the friend you knew back at the university. Unless you'd rather I say 'servant' instead."

Molly waves her hand. "You're my friend, Peter." She insists. "Nothing more. But, what are you doing up here, anyway?"

She then notices the three servants standing off to the side. "Oh hello, Smee, Alf, Mrs. Bumbrake." she says kindly.

The three servants nod respectfully. "Miss Aster." They say.

"It's so nice to see you again." Molly smiles. "I hope you all are well." Then she turns to Peter. "Now back to you. What are you doing all the way out here?"

Peter shrugs. "A need to play hooky, I guess."

Molly frowns in suspicion. "Why am I finding that so hard to believe? You have a real reason for being here, I know it. So give it up now, before I get you drunk enough to let it slip out."

Peter sighs; there's no going around this. "Well, the truth is, I came to be here for your mother's funeral."

Molly smirks. "That's a laugh. Not only did you miss out on that, but my father's wedding as well."

Peter nods gravely. "I know." he says. "One thing was following the other."

"And you should have seen how cheap the reception was." Molly says. "Any leftovers from the funeral were recooked and used as the wedding dinner. I'd rather have died, gone to Heaven, and met my worst enemy face-to-face than go through something like that again. I wonder what Mother would have to say if she could see it."

She motions Peter closer to her and says in a low voice "Speaking of her, did you know I've been seeing my mother?"

Peter tries not to look shocked. "You have?" he whispers. "Where?"

"Inside my mind." Molly sighs. "The only place where she still _can_ live."

"I remember meeting her." Peter says comfortingly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "She was such a splendid person, so kind and full of life."

Molly nods glumly. "That and more, Peter." she says. "If I ever meet another woman like her, it will be all too soon."

Peter turns to look at the servants, who are watching him expectantly. He turns back to Molly. "Molly," he says, "I actually think I've seen her."

"Seen who?" Molly asks, confused.

Peter pauses, contemplating whether to actually tell Molly what had happened last night, before taking a deep breath and saying "Your mother. I think I saw her last night."

Hearing this, Molly grows pale, her eyes open wide, and she grips Peter hard by the shoulders. "My mother?!" she shrieks. "Last night? Here? Where is she?"

Peter, recovering from the short outburst, gently frees himself from Molly's hands. "Just hang on." he says. "I can tell you everything, and these three-" he motions to the servants – "can corroborate just exactly what happened."

"Well, don't just stand there!" Molly snaps. "Tell me now, for the love of God!"

"For the last two nights in a row," Peter begins, "Mrs. Bumbrake, Alf, and Smee claim to have seen something during their watches. What they were seeing supposedly looked like your mother, wearing the dress she wore to the Stonehenge meteor shower, and she would appear from the dark, standing an arm's length away, drifting slowly, while they just stood fearfully frozen in their places. Smee told me all about it and convinced me to watch with them last night. At first I didn't believe it, but that all changed when the ghost really did appear, looking as much like Lady Aster as my two hand look like each other."

"Where did you see her?" Molly asks, less hysterically.

"Down on the road, milady." Smee replies. "The one next to the woods."

Molly nods, then asks Peter "Why didn't you speak to it? Were you paralyzed with fear too?"

"I tried to," Peter insists, "but it acted like it didn't hear. It was about to say something at one point, but the sound of the morning crowing scared it away."

Molly nods slowly, taking in all she's just heard. "Bizarre." she whispers.

"Molly, say what you like, but I swear the whole thing is true." Peter says. "We figured this was something that you had to know."

"No, no," Molly says, "I believe you, but this has me thinking." She turns to the servants. "You are on the watch again tonight, is that correct?"

Mrs. Bumbrake nods. "Yes Molly, that's right."

"And she was wearing her dress." Molly says. "Did she have anything else? A veil perhaps, or something else that would conceal her face?"

Alf shook his head. "Oh no. She only wore her dress and we could see her face clear as day."

Molly nods. "What was her face like? Was she happy, angry?"

"She looked sad." Peter remarks. "Sad, and pale as the moonlight itself."

"You said she was looking at you, right?" Molly asks.

"The entire time she was there, she looked right at me. At all of us." Peter says, motioning around. "You would be stunned yourself, if you could have been there."

"I'm sure." Molly says slowly. "Well, there's only one way to find out. I'll stand with you tonight on the watch, to if it can appear for a third time.

"Count on it." Peter declares. 

Molly takes a deep breath and begins to strategize for the night ahead. "If I see the ghost tonight, and it does look like my mother, I'll take my chances and speak to it. The rest of you have done a very good job of keeping this secret, and please, I ask, continue to do so. Don't say anything about tonight either, no matter what happens. Now, go on about your business, and I'll meet you on the road before midnight tonight."

Peter, Smee, Mrs. Bumbrake, and Alf bow respectfully and respond "As you say, Miss Aster." Then, all four turn and depart the room, leaving Molly alone again. She turns around and catches her reflection in the mirror behind her.

"Mother, appearing in the dead of night in her Stonehenge dress" she muses. "Something big is going on, I can feel it. I only wish I didn't have to wait until tonight to find out, but that's the small price I have to pay for some peace of mind."

She chuckles to herself a little and shrugs. "Who knows? Maybe some great offense will come to light, and I'll be the one to find it. But what are the odds of that?" And with that, she turns and heads out of the room herself.


End file.
